


Farewell to Bob

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [195]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Death of a pet, Sad Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Bob the cat wasn’t a beautiful cat, not even all that nice to anyone who wasn’t Stiles, but Stiles loved the odd cat with all his flaws. Stiles was never ready to lose his feline friend, but nothing lasts forever.





	Farewell to Bob

Bob the cat, named after SpongeBob SquarePants, wasn’t exactly the most lovable of cats. Bob wasn't even the most beautiful of felines, he was a bit wrong in every-which-way but Stiles loved him and firmly believed that Bob had loved him too. Loved him when no one else seemed able to do.

Bob wasn’t a handsome cat, he was always a bit on the scrawny side, with a pair of fangs just a bit too long, his ears a bit too big for its triangular head. Bob wore sweaters because of his not so great fur, sweaters which Bob happily allowed Stiles to dress him in every cold autumn morning and throughout the winter.

 The colour of Bob's unfortunate coat of fur was a shade of dirty-blond with a hint of something like pale-pink, but as the cat aged the colours faded down into something less. 

 Bob lacked any gracefulness in his movements, always a bit clumsy and with a peculiar way of walking, bad eyesight and a bit of damage to the brain was believed to be the cause of Bob’s clumsiness, but Stiles still loved Bob even if he had to help the cat up onto his bed more often than not. 

Stiles loved Bob even though everyone else seemed to hate him, or just dislike him, since Bob wasn’t the nicest of cats. At times Bob could be positively vicious, not only growling and snarling at everyone, biting and scratching anyone but Stiles. Bob hated everyone, everyone but Stiles.

Stiles loved Bob, even though at times he may have grown incredibly frustrated with Bob and the neediness of him, it wasn’t always fun having a cat as your shadow. Stiles loved Bob even if having him made Scott and others try and stay away from this house, and even if being climbed like a tree whenever Stiles didn't want or couldn't pick Bob up wasn't cool he still loved the cat. 

 It was hard for Stiles not to love Bob, not when he’d come into Stiles’ life when he felt the most alone. Stiles couldn’t not love the cat when Bob loved him while no one else could. Stiles couldn't not love feeling wanted and loved. 

Bob came to him when he'd needed someone to just be there to if only to listen and watch over him as he cried.  

The loss of his mother still fresh, still painful, and his father unable to look at him or to say a kind word, Bob came into Stiles’ life in his ugly and clumsy glory. Stiles hadn’t thought as the cat crawled-up into his lap and stood-up on its hind-legs before placing each of its front-paws on Stiles’ shoulders and placed and just started to purr loudly and comfortingly, and Stiles just sat there in the backyard of his house crying and hugging the cat he’d name Bob.

 Bob came to him, picked him, and loved him when Stiles’ own dad just couldn’t.

 Bob was there for Stiles whenever Stiles’ dad said something to cut him down, that hurt him enough to drive Stiles upstairs to his room to cry, Bob allowed him to soak his fur in snot and tears and would stay with Stiles until he fell-asleep crying and once Stiles woke-up with a headache Bob was there sleeping next to him. And whenever Stiles had a panic attack Bob was there, curling-up into his lap, purring loudly the sound and the warmth always drawing Stiles to touch him, to pet him and it helped to ease the panic inside him. It was because of Bob Stiles rarely cut himself, since every time Stiles attempted to lock himself inside his room to do so, Bob would claw at the door and cry bloody murder until Stiles let him in and once he did Bob insisted on being held, making it impossible for Stiles to cut a line or two across his pale skin.

 Bob was Stiles best friend, better than Scott. Bob was there for him when no one else was. Bob loved him, when no one else did.

Whenever Stiles came home from school, feeling horrible because of the hurtful words and actions of others, Bob was there waiting for him behind the door ready to do his best to greet Stiles and comfort him until Stiles felt a little bit better. Bob was there when Stiles had to deal with werewolves and psychotic hunters, laying his scrawny body on Stiles own none-impressive body while he sobbed into his pillow or just stared into nothingness, purring loudly and so strong Stiles could feel the comforting vibration easing his aches and pains.

Anytime Stiles was abandoned, forgotten, ditched by Scott or the others Bob waited for him to come home, as if knowing that Scott and everyone else would disappoint Stiles once more, Bob would demand to be picked-up and once held he’d purr such a magnificent purr that Stiles could feel it vibrating into his own heart easing the ache inside it.

Bob had helped him survive, helped him stay alive, kept him alive even when all Stiles wanted to do was end it all, and Stiles had never dared to even entertain the thought that one day Bob wouldn’t be there for him.

 There was never room, no real place for the thought that Bob would leave him one day, because Bob never left him, right? Bob was the only ne who never abandoned him, never left him to feel alone.

 There had never been any doubt in Stiles’ mind that Bob loved him, really loved him, loved him with all his faults and failures as an owner and a human being, and maybe that’s why Stiles found it so hard to finally face the horrible fact that Bob that there was something wrong with Bob. His own selfish want to keep Bob made it so hard to face the truth that Bob needed him to be brave, to be better, to be strong for both of them, to do the one act of love Stiles never really wanted to do but knew deep down had too because Bob deserved better than to suffer.

It wasn’t easy to call Deaton, to make Bob’s last appointment with the vet, and Stiles had attempted to kiss Bob better, cuddle him well, but it was the look the sad-eyed full of pain that the old-cat gave him that finally pushed him to make the call. Stiles had sobbed out his need, Bob’s need to Deaton who’d been all professional and understanding when Stiles asked for Scott not to be there, the last thing Stiles wanted was to have an audience when he finally shattered into a million little pieces, the last thing Bob deserved was to have anyone who’d called him demented as he slipped away and left Stiles for forever.

Stiles wrapped his best friend in Bob’s favorite blanket, all the while crying, and sobbing loudly as they made their way to the Jeep. He knew he shouldn’t be driving but again, the idea of having anyone but Deaton aware of what was happening just didn’t sit right with him, and so with tears in his eyes Stiles drove his best friend to vets, pausing now and again to just cry while he hugged and kissed his weak friend.

 Once Stiles reached the animal clinic, Stiles broke down sobbing, hugging Bob tightly against his broken heart, unable to get out of the Jeep and walk into the building where Deaton was waiting.

 `Please. Please. Don’t, don’t make me do this Bob, please. ´ Stiles cried against the top of Bob’s head, knowing very well that if Bob could’ve done anything about their miserable situation he would’ve done it hours ago.

Stiles can’t move, can’t get out of the Jeep, not until Deaton softly knocks on the window a look of almost pity in his eyes. The vet opens the door, even offers to just take Bob and take care of him without Stiles having to be there, if and only if that would make it easier for Stiles, and maybe it would but Stiles isn’t ready to leave Bob, not yet and he really doesn’t want the last person to touch Bob to be Deaton.

 With shaky and unsteady legs Stiles makes his way to the building he’d probably be unable to step a foot in for a very long-time, Deaton softly explaining to him the process, a gentle hand on Stiles’ back directing him into the back of the clinic.

 Stiles sinks to the floor, not on a chair, but on the floor, in the corner and does his best to be as brave as possible for Bob.

 Deaton is a silent presence, a silent bringer of death as Stiles speaks to his best friend who cries weakly a couple of times, but doesn’t fight what any of it.

 `Just – just go to sleep Bob. ´ Stiles tells his best friend, kissing the top of its head as he cradles him close, the cat silent but still living in his arms, `Once you do, you’ll go to a better place, a much better place. There – there you’ll get to lay in the sun all day long, and if it gets too warm you can go and sleep under an apple tree, the white little flowers in full-bloom just like all the other flowers you’ll find there. ´ Stiles softly tells Bob, who lets out a pitiful little cry, and Stiles thinks it’s almost like an apology.

 There’s a fleeting touch from Deaton on his leg, before the man tells him he’ll give Stiles and Bob a moment alone, but Stiles barely hears him through his own words that fall with less ease than the tears Stiles is weeping.

 `There will be birds, colorful birds for you to watch, and bees that aren’t going to sting you, and butterflies. ´ Stiles feels Bob twitch a little and a slow exhale leaves the cat he can’t imagine living without, `And my mom, she’ll be there too, and she’ll take care of you until I’m able to join you too. ´ Stiles folds over his cat, like a shield almost, trying to keep the cold hand of death from finishing the job.

 `I know you’ll be there, the first one to greet me, and I’ll smile at you and I’ll pick you up immediately. I’ll carry you around, and I’ll tell everyone what an amazing cat you were, Bob. And I promise, I promise that next-time I’ll try and be better. ´

 Stiles feels the moment Bob just stops, and he nearly panics because he didn’t have a chance to tell his cat one more time that he loved him, he didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, and those are the things he sobs into the unhearing ears that had in the past always listened to him.

 He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting there sobbing, clinging to the lifeless body of his cat, when Deaton appears with someone else that Stiles can’t really see through his own tears.

Stiles reluctantly allows Deaton to take Bob, and although Stiles already knew him gone hearing the vet state it drives another form of despair into him and he just starts to wail, reaching out for his cat and pulling him back to his chest, gently tucking Bob back into his blanket. Stiles can hardly breathe when Deaton tells him he has to take cat, that Stiles had wanted a cremation for his friend and for that to happen Stiles has to leave Bob with Deaton.

 `No. No. ´ Stiles sobs, hugging Bob a little bit closer, ` I can’t just – I can’t just leave him. ´

 `Stiles, ´ a familiar voice says from next to him, there’s a hand at the back of his neck, solid and warm, `He’s gone. There's nothing more to do. Just allow Deaton to take care of him now. ´ and with that Stiles just goes back to sobbing, but he allows the vet to take the cat that just walked into his life out of the blue one day. There’s a pair of strong arms that pull him into a hug when Stiles makes another move to take his cat back, but instead he moves to cling onto the solid figure that gives him a moment just to cry his heart-out before helping Stiles up and out of the building.

 The fresh air does Stiles no good, nothing Stiles’ fears will do him any good ever again.

 


End file.
